Voiced poem

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A voice can be
a terrifying thing:

Violent neighbors
domestic abuse

always a time
to call the police…

And a voice can be
an enraged thing

anarchic
heart in the right place

but a sloppy
over dramatic approach…

A voice…

A voice can be
a hilarious thing

whimsical
delightful

off-pitch
but transportive

And then a voice can be
soaring

flying
figurative thing

a soprano
who flies on wings made of pianos

and almost imperceptible
yet important
strings

And our voices

Our voices could be
a chorus

a thing of beauty:
sublime

omnipresent
abrasive

affecting…

There is a bird
on the branch

of the birch
opposite your window…

It is a pied wagtail
a delightfully small

black and white thing
with a noticeably long sharp tail

And there is a squirrel
jumping from branch to branch

obviously being groomed
by the oak to be a flying squirrel…

A voice can be
a disembodied thing
lost in space

but it can be
a genius thing
a magician

We built this city
on Queen’s Bohemian
Rhapsody

remember
we can choose who to be

what to say
how to say it…

what else can we be
how else can we say it

put stars
in their eyes

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